


percussion gun.

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Human Derek Hale, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is an alpha werewolf who, years later and lots of experience under his belt, should have some idea of what he’s doing.  He doesn’t, though.  He really, really doesn’t.  It’s gotten people hurt.  It’s gotten himself hurt.</p>
<p>But he can’t let it hurt Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	percussion gun.

“You’re being self-sacrificing,” Stiles chimes in.  It’s a new game they’re playing, self-sacrificing or… Scott doesn’t actually know the alternative.  It hasn’t ever come up.  When in doubt, Stiles always says that he’s being self-sacrificing.

“Is it really self-sacrificing when it’s not making him happy, either?” Scott muses.  

“Yes,” Stiles says, grabbing Scott’s shoulders and looking him in the eye.  “I think that makes it more self-sacrificing.  You both want it, but you aren’t going for it just because you’re afraid you’re going to hurt him.  You aren’t trusting yourself and you aren’t giving either of you what you want.  And, like, you can totally handle it, dude.  You’re being ridiculous.  And self-sacrificing.”

Scott wants to argue that it’s the furthest thing from ridiculous to have a vested interest in protecting someone he loves.  He could easily make a point of it, remind Stiles what kind of things _he’s_  done to protect the human _he_  loves.  It may not be romantic love for Stiles, but considering the lengths he’s gone to to protect his dad, it’s not unreasonable for him to understand why Scott would be hesitant to drag Derek deeper into his mess.  

It was easier before, when Derek was a werewolf, when both of them had sharp claws and sharp teeth to protect them.  But Derek’s been human for a few years now.  Sure, Braeden taught him the way around a gun, though Derek still definitely prefers to avoid them.  And sure, Derek knows more about the supernatural just in terms of casual knowledge than Scott and Stiles to put together.  

But Derek has had a few years of peaceful life, a few years where he hasn’t constantly had monsters waltzing up to his doorstep, or, even worse, just busting the door down.  Derek may be a Hale, and that may mean that he never fully escapes the world of wolfsbane and rogue omegas and darachs and chimeras and whatever else gets thrown at Scott and his pack.  But Derek is happy being away from that world.  Derek is happy getting quality sleep and doing boring history research and going hiking on the weekends and taking cooking classes.  Derek is happy not getting constantly beat up, all his shirts getting ruined by blood and dirt and werewolf claw tears.  Derek is happy not constantly fearing for his life.

And then there’s Scott.

They’ve been kind of sort of maybe flirting for as long as Scott can remember, and they’ve had outwardly expressed feelings since Derek nearly died.  There was a deathbed confession and everything, and Scott, upset and worried and convinced that Derek was actually going to die, admitted his feelings, too.  But they went backwards after that.  Derek went away for a while to recover, texting and facetiming Scott to keep in touch, and Scott started wondering if maybe that was for the best.  Scott is an alpha werewolf who, years later and lots of experience under his belt, should have some idea of what he’s doing.  He doesn’t, though.  He really, really doesn’t.  It’s gotten people hurt.  It’s gotten himself hurt.

But he can’t let it hurt Derek.

Because the second Scott brings Derek back into his immediate life, he’s at risk again.  He’s at risk to get hurt, and Scott can’t promise he’ll be able to protect him.  Scott doesn’t know that he can sit back and watch another loved one die because he couldn’t protect him.

So in a way, Scott thinks Stiles is wrong.  It isn’t self-sacrificing, even though he does want Derek, wants to be with him more than anything.  It’s selfish.  It’s protecting himself and his feelings at the expense of other people’s feelings.

Scott doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse, at the end of the day.

* * *

 

It gets harder when Derek moves back to Beacon Hills, because Derek wants to be Involved again.  He comes with weapons and with enthusiasm and with a bunch of information he and Braeden hunted down together when he told Scott they were going on vacation to the Bahamas.  Derek has had his time away, he says, and he’s ready to get back to work and be Helpful.  Lydia’s grateful to have him around, of course.  Mason, too.  Both of them appreciate someone else who is willing to do the legwork when it comes to sifting through stacks of dusty old books.  And for a while, it seems like that’s all Derek is going to be doing.  Research.  Scott is comfortable with that.

But then Braeden’s helping them out with a job, and Derek’s tagging along, and the pack sees that he can hold his own now, arguably better than when he was a werewolf.  Stiles gives Scott so many intense looks about it that Scott is certain his eyes are going to stay that way.  But it definitely makes Scott’s argument harder, seeing Derek choose them, choose the Beacon Hills lifestyle and all it entails.

It’s a quiet night, and all of the pack has gone home but Derek.  He’s sitting at the kitchen table, paging through a book, a mug of tea at his elbow.  He’s wearing a sweater with thumbholes.  His stubble is in need of a trim, the edges going soft and gently curled, and his hair is grown out longer than it used to be.  He looks so soft, so human, and Scott aches to reach out and hold Derek, to run his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“You okay?” Derek asks, and Scott realizes he’s been staring a little too long.  He flushes, shakes his head and smiles.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Just thinking, you know.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Derek asks.  

Scott weighs it for a long moment, considers whether it’s something he can say out loud.  He runs Stiles’ words through his head, self-sacrificing, self-sacrificing.  It would be so easy, to bring it up now.  To have the talk in the privacy of Scott’s kitchen, to discuss the things they’ve only vaguely referenced for years.  It would be so satisfying, in the short-run.  It would be a relief, getting it off his chest.

“I’ll let you know,” Scott decides.  “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

* * *

 

“Self-sacrificing, you fucking asshole,” Stiles shouts.  Scott is covered in blood.  It’s his own.  He’s healing, but there was a moment when they weren’t sure he would.  Scott knows he should feel guilty, that Stiles’ words should be affecting him, but he feels a little bit detached from everything.  It’s probably shock.  Do werewolves suffer from shock?  That feels like something Scott should know by now.

“I cannot fucking believe you, the whole point of the self-sacrificing game is that we learn to _recognize_  when we’re about to do something self-sacrificing and _don’t do it_ ,” Stiles rants.  Scott doesn’t respond.  He will later.  He’ll apologize to Stiles, to the pack, and they’ll reassure him that he doesn’t need to be sorry.  That they’re just worried, that’s all.  That he matters, to them, to the pack.  To the supernatural world as a whole.  He can’t run around taking bullets for people all the time.

“It would’ve killed Derek,” Scott says simply.  “It didn’t kill me.”

Stiles sighs and pulls Scott in for a tight hug.  “You just scared me, dude.  You scared all of us.  There could’ve been wolfsbane in that thing.”

“There wasn’t?” Scott offers helpfully.  The hug is nice, though.  Stiles hugs are grounding, reassuring.  The night hasn’t quite sunk in yet, but Stiles hugs are always reassuring.

The rest of the pack filters out, reassured that Scott is in one piece.  Scott goes to drive home, gets behind the wheel of the car and puts the key in the ignition.  His hands are shaking too badly, though.  He decides to wait until they stop before he puts the car in gear, and while he’s sitting there, waiting in the parking lot, there’s a knock on his window.

Scott jumps, his fight or flight instincts kicking into high gear.  The anxiety is too much, when combined with the rest of the night.  But when he glances up, it’s just Derek, standing next to the car in his leather jacket.  Scott tries to calm his breathing, to slow his heartbeat, when he remembers that it doesn’t matter.  Derek can’t hear either of them anymore.

“Sorry,” Derek still says.  Scott guesses he must’ve visibly jumped.  “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Sure,” Scott says, and he passenger door.  Derek walks around the car and slides in, smelling of fear and anxiety and certainty.

The car is silent for a long moment, and Scott waits, with words on the tip of his tongue.  If Derek doesn’t start talking soon, Scott is going to, is going to let apologies spill from his mouth.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  He doesn’t even know what he’s sorry for.  He doesn’t regret saving Derek’s life.  He doesn’t regret any of the decisions he made that night.  It’s the only thing he’s felt sure about lately, when it comes to Derek.  

Derek doesn’t let him apologize, though.  Derek says his name, softly, his voice raw, and Scott aches.  He doesn’t know what he expects, if it’s some sort of chastisement or if it’s some sort of apology, Derek telling Scott that he changed his mind after all, that he remembered the dangers of Beacon Hills and decided that maybe quiet life is for him, after all.  Scott should want that for Derek.  Scott should want Derek to be safe, should want Derek to be far, far away from Beacon Hills.

“Scott, I love you,” Derek says.  “Thank you for saving my life.”

Scott feels like years of build-up have led them to this moment.  He can smell everything Derek is feeling, can hear his heart beating out of his chest.  It wasn’t doing that when Derek said he loved Scott.  It was perfectly steady.  Confident.  Sure.  It was written in his voice, in the tone, in the way affection and emotion curled around Scott’s name.  

And Scott is tired.  Scott is just so tired of pretending he doesn’t love Derek.  Scott is tired of acting like it means nothing, like Derek doesn’t make him smile, doesn’t make him feel giddy and dorky and happy.  Derek is here.  Derek is in Beacon Hills, is in Scott’s life.  He’s there because he wants to be there, and he doesn’t seem to be going away.  

“I love you, too,” Scott says, holding out his hand for Derek to hold.  Derek’s hands are softer than they used to be, but they’re still bigger and warmer than Scott’s.  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Derek just squeezes Scott’s hand tight.  Scott’s hands aren’t shaking anymore.

* * *

 

They’re boyfriends, now.  They’re taking it slow, trying to do it right.  They go on dates.  They cook dinner together at least once per week, without the pack.  Derek takes Scott to a pottery class, and they’re both terrible at it.  Derek tries to help Scott anyway, folding his body around Scott, his hands covering Scott’s.  It might be the reason why the teacher avoids their station, letting them stumble through it on their own.  Scott still has lots of fun, and he thinks Derek does, too.

Scott still gets nervous whenever Derek comes with them to investigate.  He knows he’s going to have to get over it eventually.  He’d only just recently stopped fretting about Stiles.  He’s working on it.  He’ll get there, at least until Derek starts getting older, and Scott has to worry about the old fragile human running out and causing trouble.

Scott doesn’t mind the thought all that much, though.  He likes the idea of it, of the two of them growing old together, staying by each other’s sides until the end.  It’s comforting.

It took them a long time to get to where they are.  But Scott is certain that where he is, in love with Derek, dating him, is where he wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
